Epilogue
Franklin
“Would you like some more tea, dear?” Lydia Boone asked casually. I got the feeling the woman had a kegerator full of sweet tea hidden in Boone’s home somewhere.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I answered while holding out my glass, allowing her to top me off generously.
Lydia Boone seemed impervious to the Mississippi heat. The woman exuded casual elegance in her fitted shorts and breezy pink top. Hair swept up on top of her head, Lydia wore a pink and white scarf draped around her neck.
My gaze roamed the surrounding area as I sipped my tea. I’d ordered video surveillance camaras and took the moment to contemplate the best locations to mount them. Bart Livingston was dead, and, while it looked like he was most likely behind the attempted break-in and following Boone on the interstate, it wasn’t a sure bet. There was also the issue with the graffiti on Boone’s sidewalk. If Bart’s soul hadn’t been completely destroyed, Boone could bring him back and force him to answer. That not being the case, the added surveillance was warranted. Or, at least, it eased my mind.
We were currently sitting alone on Boone’s front porch. I sat on the swing while Lydia took up residence in a nearby lounge chair. The silence was comfortable and interrupted by Boone and Holland’s light bickering. Oh, and Miss Pattycakes’s furious tirade when Warlock Nikodemus Holland dared walk to the edge of her fenced-in yard. Not gonna lie, I chuckled a few times when I heard Holland’s attempts to soothe Mrs. Hart’s dog.
“The diminutive creature is more discerning than most,” Aurelia said when Miss Pattycakes let loose another round of irate yips. She’d arrived a few minutes ago and this was the first I’d heard her speak.
“No argument here,” I said by way of a toast.
“Aurelia, would you like some tea?” Lydia Boone asked, completely unfazed by Aurelia’s appearance. To my knowledge, she’d only met Aurelia two days ago, but had taken to her instantly. When I’d asked Ms. Boone about it, she’d simply said, “Aurelia is what she is and will do as she wills. Being nice never hurt anyone, and djinn or not, I don’t think she’s had enough nice thrown her way.”
I didn’t think Ms. Boone was wrong and couldn’t fault her logic.
Aurelia sniffed at the contents of her glass before taking a sip. Her face scrunched up in distaste and she set the glass back down but didn’t comment.
“You can’t just ward Mrs. Hart, Pops. She’d be devastated if something happened to Miss Pattycakes.” Boone sounded conflicted between being incensed and laughing his ass off.
“That dog is a menace,” Holland growled, his tone much deeper than Miss Pattycakes’s.
“She’s just protecting her human. That’s a good quality in a dog,” Boone argued back.
“She is an irritating rat with fur,” Holland seethed.
“Oh, for the love of Gaia, just because she tried to bite you once—”
“Three times, Erasmus. The little land shark snapped at me no less than three times and nearly got me on the second attempt.”
Boone and Holland rounded the front porch, climbing the steps. Boone was desperately trying not to laugh and Holland looked like he wanted to burn the world to the ground.
“Nikodemus, you look like you could use a glass of tea,” Ms. Boone said. “You could take Aurelia’s glass seeing as she doesn’t seem interested.”
Holland stared at the full glass of tea sitting on the porch railing beside Aurelia and raised an eyebrow. “I believe I’ll pass on that generous offer,” he answered, going to the opposite side of the porch and sitting on the railing, his long legs stretched out before him.
Boone walked to the swing, sitting beside me. He waved Aurelia’s way first and said, “How are you doing today?”
Aurelia blinked, her face unreadable. “I am djinn. I am the same today as I was a millennia ago.”
Erasmus snagged the glass of tea his father had passed on and took a deep swallow. “Good to know,” he answered, setting the glass down.
When Boone was settled, I kicked my feet and the swing creaked to life. I stared up at the hinges and made a mental note that they needed to be oiled, along with Boone’s screen door.
“When are you heading back to Cali, Pops?” Boone asked.
“Ready to get rid of me that quickly?” Holland responded. The words were harsh, but the tone lacked any true sting.
Boone rolled his eyes. “You know that’s not true. I was just curious.”
“My flight leaves in two days.”
I silently groaned. Two more days with Nikodemus Holland breathing down my neck. Boone might not want his father to head back to California, but that didn’t mean the rest of us felt that way.
“You look a bit peaked, Detective. Something I said?” Holland baited me. The warlock was good at that.
“Nope,” I answered. “Just a little hot out for my Midwestern blood.” I took another sip of tea while Holland did that low chuckle that made my skin crawl.
Despite the heat, Boone nestled in against my side. My arm slid over the top of the swing, caging him in.
“This is nice,” Boone said, voice low. “There was a time, when McCallister had me, that I dreamed of this moment. I dreamed of it and feared it would never happen.”
I ran my fingers through his hair. His scalp was a little sweaty, not that I cared. “There’ll be a lot more moments like this.”
Boone’s green eyes blinked up at me and he whispered, “Promise.”
I leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, that singular moment promising more than words ever could. “Cross my heart,” I answered, unwilling to finish the rest of that rhyme.
Boone laid his hand on my chest, over my thumping heart. “I get a feeling you’re a man of your word, Detective O’Hare.”
“That I am,” I answered easily. “That I am.”